


it's a long story

by race-jackson (Race_Jackson23)



Series: and so i am the other half of your soul [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Author Is Not American, Avengers Tower, Breaking and Entering, F/M, Heavy Drinking, Sorry Ohio, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, ambiguous timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 08:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Race_Jackson23/pseuds/race-jackson
Summary: In the aftermath of sheer panic and embarrassment, Darcy had but one thought to lean back on: it was all Jane’s fault.All of it. Everything. None of it was Darcy’s.… except in that itkind ofwas.alternatively: that one where darcy gets drunk and breaks into a random person's apartment except it's her soulmate's





	it's a long story

**Author's Note:**

> Another Soulmate AU ft. Shieldshock! Not as good as [21st Century Objectification](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14042400) but still funny I suppose!

In the aftermath of sheer panic and embarrassment, Darcy had but one thought to lean back on: it was all Jane’s fault.

All of it. Everything. None of it was Darcy’s.

… except in that it _kind of_ was. Perhaps blaming Jane was harsh. Not _all_ of the situation was on Jane, just a decent chunk of it. A portion significant enough to warrant an “it’s all your fault!” accusation. _Contributory participation_ , if you will. After all, if it hadn’t been for Jane, Darcy wouldn’t have met her soulmate in the Tower’s communal kitchen literally the morning after she had accidentally broken into his apartment.

 _Long_ story.

~

It began when Thor fell out of the sky and Darcy’s post-graduation plans destructed in the fireball that had been Puente Antiguo.

But that was fine, alright, it was going to be ok because Jane needed her and who could honestly say that they’d been present during an alien encounter? Not many people, that was who. Not only that, but S.H.I.E.L.D. – the shady organisation who’d also been there for the encounter – had reached out, promising that they’d pay off her college debts and even fund her Master’s if she stayed with Jane until the genius cracked the Bifrost. The chance to stay with Jane _and_ get free education (even if there was an implicit job offer on the table which meant it wasn’t really free)? Hell yes, sign her up!

Fast forward three years, a failed Master’s application, and one unpaid internship later, Darcy had only her iPod, a flimsy graduation certificate, and a thick folder of rejection letters to her name.

And college debt. Lots of that.

It was good she wasn’t working for a Nazi organisation, though, that would really suck. But if she was being honest, it was pretty much the only highlight.

An unfortunate result of all of this?

“I don’t wanna go back to Ohio, Jane!” wailed Darcy into the tabletop. The surface stuck slightly to her cheek, but she was too despondent – and too drunk – to move. “It’s _Ohio_!”

Jane patted her shoulder.

“It won’t be that bad?” she offered unconvincingly.

Darcy just moaned.

“It’s _Ohio_.”

That went on for quite some time, alternating between cursing out Ohio, S.H.I.E.L.D., asshole politicians, and, occasionally, Asgard. Even her soulmate made the list, cropping up between sexist astrophysicists and complaints of Jasper Sitwell – after all, _“So you broke into my apartment!”_ hardly instilled confidence in a girl. Jane listened faithfully between yawns, intercepting with less-than-enthusiastic sounds of agreement whenever Darcy sounding like trailing off. Down enough to take what she could get, Darcy would always continue.

Until, that is, last drinks were called. With a groan, Darcy stumbled from their table, Jane in tow. Once outside, she steered them to the taxi rank and deposited the genius into a nearby cab, crawling in while she told the driver to head for Avengers Tower. A short ride of terrible driving later, and they were at the Tower, heading up to Jane’s level in the super fancy lift that Darcy would truly miss when she had to move back to Cleveland.

It wasn’t the only thing she would miss.

“The food,” she continued her rant, commenting into a near-unconscious Jane’s shoulder. “It’s so good here, like actually fresh and shit, and not pop tarts, which is always a plus. And you’d think I’d put on like ten pounds since moving here, but the food is so healthy that it’s only been like two.”

Jane made an unintelligible sound somewhere between a grunt and a moan.

“Right,” agreed Darcy. “It’s brilliant. Also, I don’t know how you ended up the one who can’t walk, _I’m_ the one whose life is falling apart.”

At another of the other woman’s mumbles, Darcy could only roll her eyes. It did occur to her, though, as she deposited Jane beside the doorway, that saying her life was falling apart was especially facetious, as she’d never truly _had_ her life together in the first place. Not a pleasant thought, if she were being honest.

She moved over to the door. Pressing her palm against the reader, she was taken aback when it flashed red instead of unlocking the door. Uncomprehending, she stared at it. And tried again, to the same result. And again – nada.

“The fuck?”

Once more, she tried the reader only for it to reject her again. Her frustration mounted.  All she wanted was to get inside and sleep away her shitty problems, but the door – just – wouldn’t – let – her – _in_.

The force of her slap almost took the reader off the wall.

“Miss Lewis, I would ask on behalf of Mr Stark that you please refrain from slapping the reader,” piped up the Tower’s A.I. “Furthermore, that is not your–”

“J.A.R.V.I.S., I love you, but I don’t need the lecture. Zip it.”

“As you wish.” Despite not being a person, there was no way Darcy could miss the offense in his voice.

Later, she would blame what happened on a combination of Jane and alcohol. Or at least that was how she explained the situation to a baffled Tony Stark. Since she was so out of it at the time, she had no idea exactly how she’d managed to break into someone else’s apartment without triggering J.A.R.V.I.S.’s Tattle-Tale programming, but apparently, she’d done it.

“Wait,” she said upon entering the apartment. The lack of mess was the first clue that she was in the wrong place; the dark blue walls the second.

And then she heard movement from one of the rooms. She sobered up pretty quickly at that.

“Shit!”

She booked it out of the apartment. Gathering up Jane, the two made it down the hall in a record speed. Before the apartment’s occupant made it to the hall, Darcy and Jane had already disappeared into Jane’s apartment.

~

Which brought Darcy to the next morning.

The communal kitchen, unlike most places in the Tower, was not out of bounds for guests, so Darcy found herself there more often than not. She preferred it to Jane’s, if she was being honest. The facilities on the communal floor were better than the ones in Jane’s kitchen, and the fridge was always stocked with food and the coffee machine ready to go. Not to mention she felt better about mooching off of Tony Stark when she cooked the man a three course meal for breakfast.

Speaking of, said billionaire was waiting for her at the bench when she arrived, shielding her eyes from the sun pouring through the floor-length windows. He took one look at her and grinned.

“Bad hangover?”

“Oh God yes,” she said, her voice sounding too loud even when pitched low.

Stark made a complicated hand gesture and the windows dimmed to black. But before she could thank him, someone brushed past her in a hurry, planting themselves in front of Stark and placing their hands on their hips.

“Tony, this has really gone too far,” they said, and then it clicked in Darcy’s brain who was speaking.

Despite living in the same building for some time, she’d only ever seen Steve Rogers on TV from afar or in history class. There had been a memorable lecture in her propaganda course once in which they watched old newsreels and shorts featuring Captain America, but his face was always blurry in those. So she hadn’t realised that the jaw of patriotic freedom which Stark kept commenting on was an actual Thing™ and not an over exaggeration.

She also hadn’t realised that Rogers was _ripped_. Instinctively she knew he had to be, because one couldn’t be a super soldier and not have the bod to match and she had seen him on TV before, but that didn’t prepare her _at all_. He was only slightly smaller than Thor, who was the biggest guy she knew, and that wasn’t even _considering_ the _insane_ shoulder-to-waist ratio he was rocking. And the face – _the face_. Like Michelangelo had carved it himself or some shit.

Darcy was so stunned that she almost missed Stark saying, “I have no idea what you’re going on about, Rogers.”

Those eyebrows – those _eyebrows_ – did not look impressed.

“Damn it, Tony, someone broke into my place! Was it you?” said Rogers, his muscly arms tensing so beautifully that Darcy nearly fainted.

And then she realised what he’d said, and she actually did faint.

She came to a moment later. Those same arms were wrapped around her, holding her up off the floor as Steve Roger’s face hovered above hers. His mouth was moving, though it took a moment for her to match the sounds to the movements, and when she did, fainting again was near thing.

“–Ma'am, are you alright? Can you hear me? Ma’am?”

Distantly, she heard someone tell Rogers to help her sit up. He did so slowly, that beautiful face still contorted with worry, and it was all she could do to organise her brain into a coherent sentence.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t entirely successful in that, because what came out of her mouth was complete drivel.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry for breaking into your apartment, I was being dumb and drunk and I just–arghhh, you’re my soulmate though so it’s like doubly embarrassing but now I’m realising you have this tattooed onto you and oh my God I’m sorry for that too, I’m honestly a train wreck–”

Then he dropped her.

“Ow, what the _fuck_ –!?”

“Sorry! Sorry, shit, I’m sorry–”

They both shut up, eyeing each other as Darcy’s mind raced like a decrepit ute. One: she was Steve Rogers’ (as in Captain America, as in leader of the Avengers) soulmate. Two: it was his apartment that she’d broken into the night before. What were the odds?

(If she were smarter, she might have been able to answer, but as it were, she wasn’t and the hangover didn’t help.)

Finally, Rogers smiled, although it looked slightly forced on his face, and said, “Why don’t we start from the beginning?”

And so they did. But that's an even longer story.

**Author's Note:**

> To people from Ohio, I am sincerely sorry. I'm not from Ohio, but people always seem to complain about it(??) so it's in there. Let me know whether you liked it or not by leaving a comment or a kudos :) As always, come chat to me on tumblr where I'm @race-jackson.


End file.
